Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
But only in my own manner
Others might see it as selfless
But only in their own manner
It’s simple really
Selfish is just my own thing
It’s not meant to be much , but it still is
Charlotte Sep 2018
The other day I looked at some photos,
Memories played before me as if they were live.
How funny the way time moves and the way life goes,
What feels like a day was really 365.

So much can change in a year.
What you want, who you love, what you fear,
365 days can either give or take away all you hold dear.

For me, a year has brought me plenty,
New hair, new friends, another year in my 20s.

But what a year hasn't changed,
Is the way that I feel.
Between you and I, no words have been exchanged,
A year has done nothing, no wounds have been able to heal.

Some nights I'll look again at those photos and still shed a tear.
In time things will get better, check back again this time next year.
Jonathan Surname Aug 2018
My home is a wasteland of cigarette butts and coffee cups
Help in repose for better mornings
Where a bitter taste in my throat lays dormant
And I think alone, in regret of nothing

As fresh *** brews and *** ignite, thumbing my finger ring.
Tracing back words in search for other purpose,
realizing secrets as regrettable burden.
Clear throat for first sip, and light a second cigarette.

It is not insomnia but rather being too bored to sleep.
It is not knowing what to do with your hands
When someone says they love you.
It is wanting to discuss film, art--
Hell, anything, with anyone--
Only to talk yourself down
Before the words escape your throat.
And yes, All the words come from there.
Some guttural utterance only heard for those that care.
That pesters you too.

All the nerves in all the world with all the words,
and there's nothing wrong with them in my head.
Passions intermix and weaken,
with every passing moment of thinking,
So I speak of Russian filmography,
mingle as hands press to small of your back.
In an instant, a stutter, a wide expression.
But my hands were always in my pockets anyway.

"Sometimes the curtains are just blue,"
An old professor told me once
From behind his olive green desk--
In front of a whiteboard that made him look small.
Curled over, I respected him more
For the fact that he knew
Nothing everything has a purpose.

Purpose is as purpose does, "I know I know nothing."
Pretentious is as we may be, sentences full of stuffing.
Like our shirts and puffing chests, teach me like you went to university.
Analyze in caffeinated anxiety every word ever said to me.
collaborative poem #2
"Many Conversations at Once" series, trading stanzas

HERS
MINE
HERS
MINE
HERS
MINE
Chloe Feb 2018
one
the one that caught your look
the one that heard the roses like you
the one that smelt like a antique book
the one that ****** you right off
the one that made you want to take your clothes off
the one that made your nerves feel electric

the one that tasted like love,
but was never fully digested.

the heartbreakers
and the still waiters.

for hope is still about,
waiting while they have some doubt.
Being single in your 20s?
Yea you can just kinda do your own thing
Love a little less, have a spring fling
You're only in your 20s
Not yet does your heart need to sing

I want love that defies all
Love that both only likes the other
For only one, do I fall
I want love that's existent
Throught years that stays persistent
To stay together is my lasting wish
To keep a bond that is strong
That can only build,
But never lessen

I don't want us to even think about
being without eachother
Or being with others
Not even if it's just ***
That would be a mess
I want you for my own
Maybe that's selfish
I want the one who I want to be with forever
With a shared bond that never, not even
for a moment can ever sever
AvengingPoet Jul 2017
My head in the clouds
Can’t focus one bit
Better that way I think
Too much to think would be the death of me
Maybe I’m just lonely as ****
Freaking out when I’m away from your green eyes
Easy come, easy go, that can’t be so
Situations falling apart seemingly can’t breathe better find an inhaler but that **** won’t help

I’m the loneliest man alive
Actually I’m kidding

I need to sleep
Yet I never can
A walking zombie
At least the sky is blue
My mind feel grey
Wish I could be the greatest man alive
But instead I feel worse than worthless
Maybe I’m kidding but it’s hard to tell more than ever
Not sure where I am
The fleeting 20s where I have no idea what the **** I’m doing
Stuck, floating, flowing through college
Wondering why I’m here
Wish I could follow my intuition but maybe I don’t got a talent
Instead I’m looking for cold comfort I think

But my 20s have been lone-
Maybe they haven’t
Take me back to last summer
Living with the only person I even like
Now the distance is cutting me in half

What if I mess up and lose it
What if I lose the only person I even like
What if I’m broke even after I graduate
What If these questions mean nothing
What if I die tomorrow
Car crash blip blop boom ******* dead
But I’m still here

Maybe I’ll never be what I was trying to be
But I better not lose this person
Take me back
Take me back
Take me back to last summer
Walking zombie I ain’t doing fine

I’m out of breath.

— The End —